Mahō no kodomo
by Ghost Guardian
Summary: A goddess and a demon wind up in a place with peeling grey walls and dark magic in the halls. The demon meets half of her soul. The goddess falls in love again. AU after 4th year.
1. terror

**a/n: hey welcome to the rewrite, my old version was awful and im glad im rewriting and continuing this**

 **anyways. thanks for even bothering to click on this, i dont think i need to say this more than once but i dont own either franchise.**

 **go on then**

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The cold floor seeps into her conscious, it's slowly waking her up. The floor feels like anger coiling in your gut and the glint of a knife, something that Homura felt distinctly uneasy by.

Wait.

Her eyes snap open and her chapped and broken lips part as she sits up, her wide eyes scanning the room she's in.

Madoka is sprawled on the floor beside her. Her hair fans out around her, ribbon lying on the ground like a tarnished treasure.

Homura immediately looks at all the other items in the room around her. It's got cabinets and some carpets and it's oh so very dark and musty. Oil lamps flicker terribly on the walls, their sickly dim light being the only source of illumination. The room is grey and with peeling walls and it's terrible. It feels like a very, very diluted labyrinth.

Her hands grasp onto the reason she still lives today. Madoka groans in her sleepy state, her eyes groggily opening and trying to take in the sight of Homura.

 _"Nnhhnn... Homura? Ghh.."_ Even in Homura's panicked and frazzled state she cannot help but quirk her lips at the sight of her beautiful and amazing Madoka.

 _"Yes, it's me."_ She says calmly, her eyes shimmering with tears. _"We're alive, we're out, none of us are dead."_

Madoka smiles through her haze, her hair falling into her face like ripples of summertime sunset. Her eyes shimmer too, with tears brimming.

Madoka sits up, her hair falling into her face and brushing the shoulders of her school uniform. _"We aren't in a labyrinth?"_ She murmurs, her eyes flicking around the terrible room. Her eyes land on the ribbon, lying on the floor, and she quickly ties it into her hair again.

Chapped lips quirk. _"No. I don't think we are."_ Madoka nods at this, her eyes going unfocused.

 _"Where are we?"_ Her voice suddenly cracks and she sounds afraid. Homura's heart aches for her. Her gentle, loving smile turns into a grimace.

 _"I don't... wait. Why do I feel like I'm missing something?"_ Homura looks on her person, intent on looking for something.

Her soul gem is still on her. It looks like it's only at half capacity, but it is not corrupted.

She cannot understand.

Madoka stands up and brushes herself off with trembling hands. Her hands grip her skirt.

 _"We need to find out where we are."_ Madoka's voice, usually light and airy and _pure_ , so so pure, is now cold with fear.

Homura can only helplessly obey as Madoka takes her hand with still trembling fingers.

She's been pulled up. The miasma of evil that wells in the floors and halls is nothing compared to her once corrupted soul, but it still makes her uneasy and sick. She cannot, will not return to that hell she resigned herself to. She came out of that and went right into another hell that she made for her lover. For her friends. It makes her inner well of self-hatred _burn._ She cannot.

Madoka tentatively opens the door to the room their in. It opens up onto another grim, grey backdrop.

Oil lamps still flicker on the walls. There is a staircase nearby, and the two of them quickly and quietly make their way to it.

The stairs creak terribly as they walk down, hand in hand, and they get down with nothing significant happening.

A curtain covering a painting flies open, and a horrifying woman looks down on them. Her painted face moves to scream but Homura slams a hand over the painting's mouth.

The woman's eyes flutter as waves of magic flood from Homura's hand. Then they widen in shock and absolute, soul felt terror as she realizes who the pulses of magic are coming from.

A demon is here.

The painting flies shut again as the woman in the frame whimpers, and Homura takes her hand off, looking at her hand in surprise. It glitters a faint pale purple before fading.

Madoka raises an eyebrow. She then hands an umbrella she had grabbed out of fear.

 _"We don't know who we're dealing with,"_ She says, her frame still stiff with fear yet somehow relaxed enough to smile. _"And I didn't know paintings could move unless we were in labyrinths. And I absolutely didn't know that you could shut them up that easy."_

Homura sighs in exasperation, a fond grin working it's way onto her lips.

She hears, all at once, the chatter that is happening behind the door at the end of the hall.

Madoka suddenly reverts to a timid and afraid girl, instead of the confident Goddess she should have been (but yet, shes always been one).

Homura grips the umbrella handle. There are ridges and bumps in the handle and they cut into her hand. Pain brings clarity here, unlike the hell she was trapped in. It only brought despair.

Both of them traipse towards the door.

Madoka swings it open and it creaks wildly and loudly and any chatter that may have been happening ceases instantly.

There is a room full of people.

They all stand as one.

Madoka shrieks in terror. Homura raises the umbrella.

She closes her eyes.


	2. revalations

**a/n: hey if you've been following this story for a while then i rewrote the first chapter too, go check that out _please_ i beg of you**

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Harry had been feeling something different for the past few minutes. The second it started he felt something shift, awfully new yet familiar. It was like someone had shown him a picture of some vaguely remembered cousins, and you suddenly remembered all the time you spent with them.

It was similar to that.

He looked at the door. The feeling was building up, and the door (or what was behind it) was the reason.

It opened, creaking and attracting the attention of everyone in the room, and revealed two young teenagers, one with pink hair and the other with black. The black-haired girl was wielding an umbrella.

Everyone stood up, instantly hostile.

 _"No!"_ The pink haired one shrieked, her eyes widening wildly as she hold up her hands and as the other one raises the umbrella threateningly. There is a snarl on the dark haired girl's face. It is more intense than anything Harry has ever seen and it reminds him of himself for some reason. _"Please, oh please no."_ The pink haired one is sobbing in terror. Her eyes do not well with tears, but they well with terror instead.

The kitchen was silent for a moment, before Hermione stands and answers the two newcomers in their language, recognizing and using the smallish amount of Japanese she learned when vacationing when she was younger.

 _"You're in a house in-"_ Hermione struggles for a second- " _Britain. Why are you here?"_

Madoka blinked. Britain? That was halfway across the planet, how did they get to here?

Homura scowled, her eyes reflecting deep thought while she lowered the umbrella. _"I... we're from japan. Did you bring us here? Why are we here?"_

Hermione raised her hands in a placating manner, trying desperately to help the two girls feel less threatened. _"I don't know either. I'm sorry."_

The people behind Hermione were looking puzzled now, but they still looked hostile. "Hermione, what on earth are you saying?" Ron blurted out, his wand lowering as well as his fear.

The brunette looked behind her, responding in English (with a touch of annoyance flavouring her tone). "I'm just telling them where they are. They don't know how they got here."

Hermione fluidly turned back to the still wary girls, apologetic look written all over her features. _"Sorry. They don't speak japanese."_

Madoka giggled, the kind of laugh when you're overwhelmed and nervous. _"It's fine. Could you please tell them that we aren't looking to harm them?"_

She relayed the message to the order while still keeping her eyes on the pink haired and dark haired ladies.

Moody slammed his hand onto the table, and Madoka jumped. Homura hissed, readying herself to transform if she needed to protect Madoka. The umbrella drops to the floor with a clatter as Homura flexes her hands. She wants to be able to hurt these strangers with her hands before revealing her ultimate card.

"How do you know that? They could be spies for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" Moody growled, his eye whirling about in its socket.

Homura stared at his eye in fascination, but she was still tense and angry and afraid.

"You think that two scared kids that are my age are going to be Death Eaters?! They don't even speak english!" Hermione snapped, turning around so she could face Moody. "They don't even know why they're here!"

Harry looked at the girl with pink hair. A name suddenly came to mind, and he knew it was her name. He stood up and walked slowly towards the girls (who were on the other end of the long, thin kitchen area).

 _"Madoka-chan?"_ He murmured, faint memories of dreams floating to the forefront of his mind, whispers of a language he didn't know but could understand perfectly, visions of a lifetime he wished he could relive, glints of light and regret.

The pinkette's head snapped towards him, recognition hovering in her eyes, and the girl next to her looked at him with recognition as well.

 _"... Homura?"_ Harry didn't know why, but he realized that once upon a time his name must have been Homura. A lifetime flickered in front of his eyes like candlelight, and suddenly everything was okay. He was with Madoka again. The Law of the Cycle.

Sirius stood up, his chair clattering to the floor. "Harry, what's going on? Why are you..?" Sirius' voice halted, much like how a car would stop if it ran into a wall, as he watched both Madoka and Homura run up to him and hug him.

Madoka was talking in a flurry of Japanese, and he only caught snippets of it, things like _"Why are there two of you?"_

Homura was silent, watching Harry with confused and pleased eyes, simple joy at finding a part of herself washing over and distracting her from any rational and logical thought.

"... Do you know these people, Harry?" Hermione ventured as she shifted closer, and as he nodded faintly, the rushing onslaught of memories and wishes and the entire universe ending hindering him from saying anything.

The entire table burst into startled and angry noise, anger at not telling them that he knew these intruders earlier. Harry didn't really hear it.

Madoka twittered nervously, gripping onto Harry. _"What are they talking about?"_ She murmured in Japanese, her eyes flitting to Homura.

Harry responded in Japanese as well (he didn't know he could speak japanese). _"I'm not sure. Why do you act like you know me?"_

The pinkette squeaked, suddenly realizing that Harry was an essential stranger. She still didn't let go. _"I... you.. you felt like Homura."_

Homura tacked onto the thought, her face changing into a look of irritation and confusion as the noise in the room ramped up. _"You feel familiar. You feel like me.. What is you name, then?"_

Green eyes blinked. _"My name is Harry."_ He glanced at the girl still holding him. _"You're Madoka. And you... you're me, aren't you?"_

Madoka hummed. _"Yes... you absolutely feel like her. You're the same, but not. Reincarnation?"_

Harry and Homura both looked at each other at the same time, and they both saw shards of themselves in each other.

 _"I suppose so._ _"_ Murmured Homura, gently reaching out to feel Harry's face. She scowled with contempt when she heard people yelling louder.

A jolt of belonging snapped between them, and their theory was confirmed instantly.

Homura lifted an eyebrow questioningly as the jolt passed through her hand, a faint glow passing through her fingertips. Her soul gem, still in ring form, glimmers and looks like it is back to it's normal self.

"Ah." Harry purred, unlike him (but then again, did he know who he was?). His eyes shut, and he grinned.

"HARRY!" Sirius yelled, for the fourth time that minute. Homura and Harry both turned around, eyes wide.

 _"Yes?"_ They chirped, looking strangely like twins. Madoka giggled, before clamming up at the intense glare that Sirius sent her way.

"Harry, dear, what language are you speaking?" Molly queried, wringing her hands anxiously. What had gotten into him?

The emerald-eyed boy shook his head before responding in english. "Oh, erm, I was just talking to them..." Harry said, almost joyful. It was uncanny as he had been angry and moody for most of the day. Sirius frowned. He didn't press, however.

"You were speaking Japanese," said Hermione in a tone that stated, 'You aren't telling us something.'

"Was I?" Harry smiled, tilting his head and walking back to his seat. He waved Madoka and Homura over and pulled out a seat for them both, coincidentally right next to him. "Well, they're both friendly. Don't make them feel threatened."

Mad-eye growled, and sat down heavily in his chair. Everyone else followed (Tonks fell out of her chair right afterwards).

"Explain." Alastor snapped, drumming his fingers on the table impatiently.

Harry tilted his head, glancing at the now sitting girls. Madoka was fidgeting with her ring, which glimmered pink briefly.

"Ah. Well. They're old friends." Harry muttered. He looked over to Homura (himself? herself?) and started talking in Japanese.

 _"I'm going to see if they can understand before I continue."_ Homura nodded, and stared at the wall, her violet eyes boring a hole into the grimy walls.

One look at Hermione and Harry knew in an instant that she was confused and frustrated, which meant that he could talk to his alter-self and the love of his past-life.

 _"So, how did you two get here?"_

Madoka smiled nervously as Homura continued to bore a hole into the wall with her staring.

 _"O-oh. Well, we don't know, we just sort of... came here?"_ The smaller girl fidgets under the harsh gaze of all the other members in the room. Harry wonders if she feels like knives are being pointed at her.

 _"The Cycle?"_ Homura asks quietly, her violet eyes suddenly going dead. Her hands clench and unclench from where they rest on the kitchen table, and Mundungus flinches.

Harry nods with his other self. She's right, isn't she?

There is an uncomfortable silence, and it feels like it lasts an hour when it really only lasted about five minutes or maybe longer.

 _"I would absolutely assume so."_ Harry laughs, waving a hand carelessly. It seems typical of the universe to give him his alternate self and his past (future? present?) lover right in a time where he needed it most.

Madoka smiles brightly but then it falters- she remembers the anguish and relief on all those magical girl's faces when she saved them from a fate worse than death.

Ron scowls. "Harry, mate, we have no bloody idea what you're saying." Molly looks like shes about to reprimand him for his language, but she stops herself last second and snaps her open mouth shut.

Harry snorts a laugh. Homura looks mildly amused. Madoka looks clueless still. It's an adorable look.

"Just leave them be. I'll take them up to our room." Harry says as he rises from his chair and holds out a hand for the sweet goddess that sits beside him.

She purses her lips adorably as she takes his slightly larger and more calloused hand, and he pulls her up. He does the same to his other self. Homura smirks as he does this.

"You're sure it's safe?" Sirius' voice cuts through the uneasy new silence.

Homura, armed with her other self's knowledge of English, responds lightly. "He is more than capable of protecting himself."

And they walk upstairs.


End file.
